


Agony

by Suchstuffasdreams



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Into the Woods (2014), Into the Woods - Sondheim/Lapine, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Theatre, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Bucky Barnes is an idiot, M/M, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Shy Steve Rogers, The Stucky-ITW crossover fic nobody asked for!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5341862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suchstuffasdreams/pseuds/Suchstuffasdreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roughly based on a dream I had while involved in a production of Into The Woods. It's the Stucky/Into The Woods High-School AU that nobody asked for!</p>
<p>"Bucky might be able to do it," Nat suddenly said, now clearly looking at him, a smile playing at the edges of her mouth. Instantly, all eyes were suddenly on him, questioning, and he could feel himself blushing deep.<br/>"Wh-what?" he heard himself say at the same time as Steve, who he realised looked very uncomfortable right now.<br/>"Bucky, you were the best waltzer out of everyone last year," Nat quipped, smirking. A few people murmured agreement, including Pepper, who seemed to be very seriously considering this.<br/>"Bucky, would you be willing...?" Pepper started, but trailed off, leaving the question hanging, unfinished but obvious.<br/>"I guess I could," Bucky was suddenly saying, unsure of what possessed part of his mind had willed him to.<br/>"Really?" Pepper asked, a bit shocked but relieved.<br/>"Yeah, sure," Bucky said somewhat confidently, with no clue where these words were coming from. "I could totally teach Steve to waltz..."</p>
<p>Theatre-kid Bucky Barnes has to teach his shy but hot crush Steve Rogers to waltz for a school play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once Upon A Time... - Bucky POV

"You know we have practice for the play today, right?" Nat asked, completely aware that Bucky did not, in fact, know that.

"What?" he asked, caught off guard. "Since when?"

"Since Pepper took over as student director and changed all the practice dates," Nat sighed, showing him the new calendar in her binder, with the date clearly circled in red, along with the words: _"Act 1, Scene 2, Part 3 FIRST REHEARSAL"._

"Why didn't I get one of these?" Bucky groaned. "I'm the Stage Manager! I need to know this stuff."

"They were on the table next to the call board," Nat shrugged. "A mass text went out—"

"I never get any of those, though!" Bucky complained, taking out his outdated Blackberry. "This dinosaur barely even _sends_ texts, let alone _receives_ them."

"I'm telling you, you have to get a new phone," Nat shook her head disapprovingly.

"Ah, yes," Bucky grinned, "I'll buy a new iPhone with the huge stash of money I have just laying around." It was no secret to anyone that Bucky's family couldn't afford much.

The bell rang, inviting everyone to fifth period. Señora Chavez dismissed the class, and Bucky quickly followed Nat out of the room. "This means I'm not gonna be able to pick up my sister after school," Bucky sighed, starting to write a text to tell Becca, who was in middle school, that he couldn't get her until five.

"Don't worry," Nat admonished. "I'll do it."

"What? How? You have practice too."

"Yes, but I don't have a fifth period either. I'll pick her up on my way back to school."

"Oh my god, thank you, Nat! You're a life saver!"

She flipped her red hair flamboyantly. "Yeah, yeah, you owe me, could never repay my immense kindness, _blah blah blah_..."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Don't push it."

They parted ways at the door to the senior parking lot, while Bucky continued on to his last period of the day: Theatre IV. It was actually just a mass theatre class — the school had too few periods and too little patience with the arts department to actually have four classes — so it was full to the brim with underclassmen. All the kids Bucky was friends with in the class last year had transferred out this year for their various job internships. Bucky had no idea what he wanted to do when he graduated, so he'd stayed. There were a couple seniors in the class who made it bearable, but with the new teacher, Mr Pierce, frequently preoccupied and frequently gone, the freshmen and sophomores more or less had free reign.

One of the seniors who made it bearable was Steve. He and Bucky weren't very good friends, but they talked and joked around occasionally in class and were generally on good terms. Steve had transferred in October; the story was that he got expelled from his last school for fighting. While Steve certainly had the build for a fighter _(and, god, what a build)_ , he was always incredibly shy and quiet in class, respectful to a fault with all his teachers and nothing but kind to anyone. Almost whenever Bucky glanced over at him (and there were quite a few glances every day), he seemed preoccupied with homework or with his sketchbook, though what was in it, no one seemed to know. Steve kept to himself. When someone once asked him about the fighting rumors, he had simply shrugged and awkwardly explained it away, "I don't like bullies." No one asked about it after that.

Bucky walked into the classroom and sat in his usual seat across from Steve, ready for a day of nothing in particular — Mr Pierce was out for the week, and the substitute teacher was a lady from the front office who was notorious for never doing anything.

The picture of charming, Steve had his short dirty-blond hair combed back and was wearing a soft blue polo with a navy-blue sweater vest over it. He regarded Bucky silently with his kind blue eyes before settling back into his math homework.

_Jesus_ , if he wasn't the hottest guy to ever grace a public school with his presence, Bucky'd be damned.

Bucky was halfway through his Spanish homework when Pepper walked over, her boyfriend Tony (the play's tech manager) in tow.

"You know we have practice today, right?" she said, and Bucky could swear he thought, for a moment, that she was talking to Steve too.

"Yeah," Bucky said, "Nat told me."

"Good," she said, "Make sure you get an updated schedule from the call board."

"Will do," Bucky smiled. Pepper's eternally unreadable expression didn't waver a bit as she walked back to her table, Tony walking with her and cracking some joke in her ear that made her chuckle.

"You're in the play?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yeah," Bucky said, trying not to stare at him for too long. ' _Nonchalant_ ', he kept thinking to himself, ' _nonchalant_ '. "I mean, I'm Stage Manager," he clarified. "I tried out for, like, every part, but I didn't get anything. I think Pepper honestly prefers me as her helper monkey." He cracked a smile. Steve's expression remained blank until Bucky held his hands up and clawed them like a monkey's, making the appropriate " _ooh-ooh-ooh_ " noises until Steve chuckled.

To be fair, Pepper had only just stepped in as Student Director, after the head of the already-dwindling Performing Arts department, Mr Fury, resigned suddenly, leaving the choir teacher Ms Hill to take up a lot of slack (and new classes) and Pepper to grab hold of authority in drama club. Regardless of power struggles involved, a lot of parts had been shifted around by Pepper already: Bucky's new status as Stage Manager hadn't been as great a promotion as he could've hoped.

"What exactly does the Stage Manager do?" Steve asked.

"Well," Bucky started thoughtfully, "basically, I go to every practice and take notes on everything the director says. If the director isn't there, I'm in charge. And then, when the play actually gets performed, I'm kind-of acting director. It's not that glamorous, though; I'm more like Pepper's mouthpiece than an actual co-director or anything." Bucky had wanted to direct something for a while now — had tried out for every play, asked around about how to start directing, served as Stage Manager for nearly every production. Alas, nothing ever came to fruition. He had wanted to at least get a part in the spring musical if he wasn't going to get to direct it, but now it looked like he was stuck in the same old rut again.

"Sounds fun," Steve said with a warm smile, before going back to his homework silently. There was a slight blush creeping up into his cheeks that made Bucky almost do the same.

Bucky managed to survive until the end of class, and watched Steve put all his stuff together and put his backpack on his back five minutes ahead of the bell. He was always the first one out, as if he couldn't get away fast enough, and part of Bucky wondered in a paranoid way if it was to get away from him. Of course, Bucky knew that Steve had a girlfriend — everyone knew. After school he was always hanging out with Sharon Carter, the blonde SGA rep who everyone adored for her good looks and personality. Rumor had it that Steve had gone out with her cousin Peggy at the snooty private school he went to before this one. Everyone seemed to think that they were a match made in heaven.

Bucky walked past them acting all close and shmoopy as he walked down the outdoor walkway to get to the room they were practicing in. Hardly anyone ever arrived until 3, so he had roughly fifteen minutes to get his things ready. Bucky unlocked the door to the room, letting in a couple of waiting cast members, and set his stuff down on the table that Pepper and he would observe the proceedings from. Once his backpack was down and his binder was open, Bucky taped up the sign on the door: " _INTO  THE WOODS Spring Musical Practice_". This classroom was closest to the parking lot, and Bucky had a good view through the giant windows and glass door of Steve heading this way with Sharon. He ducked back inside to avoid the PDA-parade.

Pepper and Tony arrived soon, along with a flock of cast members. Nat followed them in, Bucky's sister trailing behind her.

He greeted Nat and thanked her for picking up his sister.

"It was no problem," she said, with the demeanor of someone who expected you to understand she had taken great pains to fulfill your unworthy request. She smiled regally and started setting her things on the floor and getting out her script. Becca walked straight over to Bucky.

"Hey Ugly," she greeted affectionately, "I need somewhere quiet to work on this take-home test."

"Take-home test?" Bucky sneered. "Sheesh." He didn't remember being so rigorously worked when he was in eighth grade. "The computer lab next door is unlocked and empty," he sighed. "Stay quiet and don't make a mess of anything."

"I'll try not to." She stuck her tongue out, as Bucky focused on getting out his script, before heading to the door. As she walked out, Bucky was vaguely aware that she almost collided with a tall guy walking in. It wasn't until Bucky heard the guy's voice apologizing to her that he realized who it was.

_Steve_.

Bucky tried to avoid looking up at him, concentrating on going through the script. Why was he here? Was he looking for Bucky? _Was he in the play_?

_No_ , Bucky answered that last question. He couldn't be. Bucky had the cast list memorized and had met everyone already—

_Except_.

_Except for Prince Charming_.

The guy playing Cinderella's Prince, a Brock Something-Or-Other, had dropped out just last week. Pepper had said that the next guy in line for the part would get it.

But Steve hadn't tried out. Or, at least, Bucky hadn't seen or heard of him trying out. Steve was shy, quiet, reserved. Why would he try out for one of the most ostentatious characters in the show?

Pepper was getting out her script next to him, and he quietly asked, "Hey, is Steve in the play?"

She seemed to take a second to understand the question, even glancing at Steve to remind herself who he was. "Oh, yes," she answered, nodding. "He's our new Prince Charming."

_Oh._

_Oh no._

Terrified, he glanced behind him to where Steve had been. His backpack was on top of a chair now, but he...

He was walking over right next to Bucky. He was now incredibly close to him. Bucky had to fight the urge to blush or, _God forbid, inhale deeply_.

"Hey, I was wondering if I could get a script?" Steve asked, and Pepper started looking for where she kept the spares. Bucky tried his hardest to appear nonchalant.

"Steve," he said, putting on his usual air of casual passivity, "why didn't you tell me you were in the play...?" He had to stop himself from awkwardly tacking on "buddy" to the end of his question.

"I thought you knew," he said, blinking at Bucky in a confused way.

"I had no idea," Bucky said, starting to fall back into normal behavior. "I didn't even know you were interested in acting."

"Yeah," Steve said, appearing a little uncomfortable. "I tried out for stuff at my old school but didn't get into much. And then, when I came here in October, it was too late to audition for the fall play. I came to see it though. It was really good. You all did great."

The fall play had been _Our Town_ , and, in a rare twist of fate, Bucky had worked as Backstage Manager but also had to do a walk-on as a milk delivery man when their actor got sick all of a sudden. Bucky was pretty embarrassed to know that one of Steve's first impressions of him as a serious actor was made when he was talking to an imaginary horse in a Yankee accent.

"Thanks..." Bucky sighed.

"Here you go," Pepper said, handing a script to Steve with a smile.

"Thank you," Steve said, smiling at her and then at Bucky before going to his seat.

"Okay everyone," Pepper said, starting the practice off. "We're going to start the practice with the ballroom scene before the song 'A Very Nice Prince'." She paused and looked around for a moment. "Where's Cinderella?" Christine Everhart, the elusive and vapid junior cast in the role, was MIA.

"She told me earlier she had a journalism club meet or something," Pietro spoke up. His sister Wanda was playing Little Red, while he was somewhat awkwardly cast as Jack. _Perks of being the two youngest people to get cast._

Pepper sighed exasperatedly. "Someone please tell her that in the future she should let me know directly when she's going to miss practice."

"Excuse me," piped up Steve, raising his hand timidly while his other held his script open.

"Yes, Steve," Pepper conceded.

"Which page is the ballroom scene on? I can't seem to find it in my script."

"Oh, right," Pepper nodded understandingly, "you don't know. The ballroom scene is just a quick scene we've added in between parts to smooth the way into 'A Very Nice Prince'. I assume you know how to waltz?"

"Actually, um, no," Steve said, embarrassed.

"Oh," Pepper exclaimed, caught off guard. When they had done The Sound of Music the year before, everyone had to learn how to waltz for the party scene. Bucky had gotten praise for being able to do it incredibly well — he'd enjoyed that performance immensely because it was one of the few times he got to play a part (Uncle Max Dettweiler) rather than being Stage Manager.

"Well, someone will have to teach you..." Pepper mused, more to herself than to Steve or the cast. "Christine is adequate at best. We need someone good at it so you'll be well prepared." A thought popped into Bucky's mind, but he mentally swatted it away. Pepper continued, scanning the room, "Who here was in Sound of Music last year?" About half the people in the room raised their hands, including Bucky.

Pepper focused on Nat, who hadn't raised her hand. "Nat, weren't you in it?"

"I just helped with front of house and publicity," Nat shrugged, before sending a quick look in Bucky's direction that felt loaded with some sly intent.

"But you're a dancer, aren't you?" Pepper prodded desperately.

"Just ballet," Nat shook her head innocently. "And a little bit of tango." Bucky knew she was lying through her teeth. She had practically taught him to dance in the first place. _Why, though, was she..._

"Bucky might be able to do it," she suddenly said, now clearly looking at him, a smile playing at the edges of her mouth. Instantly, all eyes were suddenly on him, questioning, and he could feel himself blushing deep.

"Wh-what?" he heard himself say at the same time as Steve, who he realised looked very uncomfortable right now.

"Bucky, you were the best waltzer out of everyone last year," Nat quipped, smirking. A few people murmured agreement, including Pepper, who seemed to be very seriously considering this.

"Bucky, would you be willing...?" Pepper started, but trailed off, leaving the question hanging, unfinished but obvious.

"I guess I could," Bucky was suddenly saying, unsure of what possessed part of his mind had willed him to.

"Really?" Pepper asked, a bit shocked but relieved.

"Yeah, sure," Bucky said somewhat confidently, with no clue where these words were coming from. "I could totally teach Steve to waltz..." Why was he saying this?! "I mean, assuming Steve's okay with that," he qualified, looking to the now blushing blond clutching his script. It almost annoyed him that even with his face red as a tomato, Steve was cuter than should be legal.

Steve opened his mouth silently for a second before affirming, "Sure, that'd be fine."

"Great," Bucky said unconvincingly.

"Great," Steve repeated.

"Great!" Pepper beamed, awash with genuine relief. "So every day for about twenty minutes before practice, you two can use this space to waltz! Perfect!" Bucky felt far less than perfect. He felt like he might pass out. He also felt both Steve and Nat boring into him with their eyes, and felt very sure that if he jumped out the window now, he could at least break one leg and escape mostly intact.

Pepper obliviously droned on, flipping through the script, "Right then, so we'll skip past 'A Very Nice Prince', for now, and head straight into 'One Midnight Gone'. How's that sound?"

And practice commenced from there.


	2. Who Can Tell What's Waiting... - Bucky POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve's acting ability comes into question but his attractiveness does not, and a new character is introduced

Bucky had the evening to mull over the situation.

The Thursday practice was a successful one, with Pepper reading over the lines for Cinderella when necessary, and Bucky spending a majority of the practice thinking over his options. He could back out of teaching Steve. Of course, if he did that this soon after accepting, Pepper would be suspicious. And God, what would Steve think? He had no clue what he thought in the first place. God knows what kind of message dropping him this suddenly would send.

He could drop out of the play. Say he had family issues or something. But he loved theatre — he couldn't. And Pepper's response would be the same: suspicious.

_Why not drop out of school entirely?_

_Yes, that would work._

By the end of Thursday practice, Bucky was aware of at least one fact: Steve was nervous.

He clearly had the makings of a good actor ( _hell, he was better than half the cast_ ), but he seemed stiff the entire time, going through the lines with some emotion but clearly holding back. Over the course of the practice, he loosened up a little, but he kept tensing up and glancing in his direction periodically — looking at Pepper to know if he was doing things right. Bucky met his gaze a couple times, and each time, he would start to blush ( _adorably_ ) and fumble through his next line before continuing on.

Bucky did notice that the actor he seemed to have the most chemistry with was Sam Wilson, the tall, dark, and handsome junior playing the Baker. He had heard that they had two classes together and were already good friends, and even though they had no scenes together technically, off stage they were near-constantly talking. Steve also seemed to strike it up with Thor, the majestically hot Norwegian jock playing Rapunzel's Prince. Their banter on stage was very real, and while on stage Steve seemed to relax the most during their scenes together, even lending the character a goofball quality that just added to Prince Charming's charm.

_Lord above_ , Steve really was Prince Charming.

At the end of practice, Steve came up to Pepper and they exchanged a few words before Bucky realized his presence was wanted by Pepper. He walked over with his things in time to hear Pepper say, "You two can start practicing for real on Monday, but I think you should meet up before practice tomorrow anyway just to get to know the steps and everything. The twenty minutes before practice starts, you get the room to yourselves. I know you like privacy, Steve." (Bucky would psychoanalyze that sentence later.) "We won't let any other cast or crew members in until 3:15. Just try to both be here as soon as Theatre ends so you can get the most done possible."

Steve mumbled agreement throughout her speech, not looking at Bucky once. Bucky couldn't help but feel a little slighted. By the time Pepper finished and he agreed himself, he wasn't looking at her anymore but looking straight at Steve quite obviously.

"That sound good, Steve?" he said to him, to reiterate his focus on him.

Steve looked at him hesitantly and smiled as best he could, though he still appeared nervous to a fault. "Sure, yeah. Sounds good."

Pepper was looking between the two of them scrutinizingly. After a moment of silence she sighed, "Great," and walked with Tony out of the room. Steve nodded in acknowledgement of Bucky's existence before scurrying for the door like a frightened cat, leaving Bucky standing there speechless.

"What the fuck just happened?" he murmured out loud.

"Magic," came the voice to his right as Natasha suddenly materialized next to him, startling him immensely. "Magic happened, Bucky. You can thank me later."

She sauntered toward the door. Bucky groaned, "Why don't I just hate you instead?"

Nat flipped him the bird with a quaint over-the-shoulder smile as she exited, stage right.

Becca was tired and bored when he picked her up from the next-door computer lab, and bickered idly with him during the car-ride home before passing out. Bucky had to fight all his urges to simply let out all his frustration on her by writing "I'm a moron" all over her face in Sharpie. The last time he'd done that, five years ago, he'd been grounded for two months (the Sharpie only took three days to wash off), and he couldn't bear that kind of punishment again.

When he brought Becca inside, his mom was starting dinner — spaghetti and garlic bread ( _praise be to God_ ) — while his dad worked on his computer, already nursing a beer at 5:30. After his mom's initial questions about school and practice ("Practice was great," he'd said, deciding not to unveil the horrors that had unfolded throughout), he managed to sneak away while her attention was on Rebecca's complaints about her take-home test ("Math is hard," Bucky found himself thinking with a chuckle as he climbed the steps to his room later). His dad had little to say other than a warm "Welcome home" and the obligatory questions of "How are you?" and "Was school good?"; Bucky and his dad loved each other, but didn't talk much due to the total polarization of their interests. His dad was an architect who seemed to view the entire world in organized facts and figures and numerical data; Bucky was what his psychology teacher had termed "Abstract Random", meaning that he lacked any sort of physical organization and disliked being confined by any set rules or methods. Bucky felt like his dad expected him to enter some kind of high-paying profession that would "challenge" him (Bucky's idea of a good kind of challenge and his dad's idea were two totally different things). Both had learned a while ago that it was best to simply leave some things undiscussed.

Bucky quickly got up to his room and threw his backpack on the bed, stretching his muscles and trying to work out the kink in his neck. Feeling tired, cold, and a little funky, he decided on a shower, and was soon stripped down and in the bathroom, door locked and water spraying out of the shower head.

Waiting until the water was boiling hot, Bucky stepped into the shower, adjusting the temperature and feeling the hot spray course over his entire body, licking paths through his dark hair, across his shoulders, down his back. Bucky reveled in the warm toastiness of the hot shower before actually cleaning himself. He shampooed his hair, which was usually meticulously short as per his dad's somewhat militaristic standards, but had been allowed to grow out some recently. Bucky desperately wanted to grow out his hair — the longest he'd ever gotten it was five inches before even his mom began pleading with him to get a haircut. It was the same rebellious streak against his dad's standards that had driven him to... well, to theatre in the end, but to a lot of worse things before that.

Bucky loved theatre. It was the one thing he was really passionate about — he'd always been vaguely interested in English and History, with a slight ability to understand Science. Math was an okay subject for him — at least, he never failed any of his math classes. Art was fun but somewhat stressful, and while Bucky could hold pitch and keep a tune, Choir wasn't his thing (despite how much he loved singing obnoxiously in the shower). Theatre was his biggest destresser. No matter how crazy or hectic or pressuring things got, Bucky always felt calm and cool and... at home when he was involved in any kind of production or performance. Everything felt okay on the stage — he had control and he felt there, in the moment, content with the present rather than worrying about the future or obsessing over the past. He could throw himself into a character or a part or a production and feel that everything would work out — even the most frantic productions did nothing to curb his enthusiasm. Theatre was his place.

And apparently Steve was now in this place. Sure, he had been in the class, but nothing ever got done in that class. Nothing ever happened. Drama club was where it was at. The real acting, the real producing, the real magic happened on the real stage, not in the classroom. And here Steve was going to be, on stage, alongside Bucky and everyone else.

Steve. His friend. His hot blond friend who wore shirts that would be modest if they weren't too small for his tall, muscled frame. His friend with the eyes as blue as the noonday sky reflected in a clear pool, with the dorky little smile that lit up every nerve in Bucky's body, with the effortless grace that acted so clumsily it was clear he had no clue how absolutely breathtaking he was.

_God_ , Bucky was in deep.

He had no clue how he could teach Steve to waltz — sure, it wasn't the closest dance, but they would be pressed together, face to face, linking arms and moving in unison and — _dear lord_ , the images Bucky's brain brought up. _'Moving in unison'_ — Bucky could think of a few other activities that fit that description.

_God,_ he had to wonder how Steve's muscular arms felt under that shirt, and soon _he'd actually know!_ And the whole point of the waltz is being focused on your partner — how was Bucky supposed to survive looking intently into Steve's beautiful, kind eyes, or at his pink, soft lips, or at his short crop of hair that Bucky's fingers could get lost in—

This was too much. Bucky was starting to get a boner from thinking about this too much, and even worse, his heart had a sizable boner as well (at least in the metaphorical sense). Steve not only did things to Bucky's crotch, but to his emotions as well — his shy, sweet personality, his artistic appreciation of literally anything and everything, his sarcastic wit and hilarious sense of humor. He was the total package — someone made in a lab specifically to ruin Bucky's life.

Bucky scrubbed his body with a soapy washcloth, ignoring his boner (the last time he'd tried to masturbate while thinking of Steve, he'd felt immensely guilty and hadn't been able to look at him straight the next day — Steve was too good to be reduced to a sexual fantasy). After turning off the water and toweling dry, he put on some boxer-briefs, an old sweater, and some pajama pants before heading downstairs. He knew but one thing for sure: he had no clue what he was going to do.

Bucky ended up going over the Into the Woods script, as well as his notes, for roughly an hour after dinner. His thoughts kept drifting back to the practice that day, and to Steve's acting. Sure, he had clearly been nervous, but by the end of practice, when he was starting to relax into the role, he had let some of his talent really shine through. Bucky had the image frozen in his head of Steve, somewhat ridiculously, jumping — no, heroically leaping — onto stage and posing with fists on hips, face upturned, and jaw fixed — Superman, there to save the day. It was hilarious, and incredibly true to character, and, undeniably, pretty hot — his muscles tense, chest out, jaw hard as if it were carved from marble.

Bucky had to waltz with this guy.

By now he had accepted it: this was his fate. The only real question was: how should he go about it?

Obviously, if they're dancing an inch apart, and Bucky gets a boner, that'll be hard to ignore (and even harder to explain — God, why did Bucky's brain have to keep using that word, " _hard_ "). But assuming that doesn't happen and Bucky is just resigned to awkward but uneventful drooling the whole time, how is he, an amateur himself, going to teach Steve to waltz?

If Steve is good at dancing, then perhaps it will be easy to teach him — just go through the basic steps, and then practice makes perfect. If Steve isn't good, well, Bucky can just teach him to "show-waltz" (the dancing most of the cast did in _Sound of Music_ , consisting of focusing on the "moving in a circle" part and letting your upper body movements distract the audience from the fact that your feet aren't actually moving in step).

And what if Steve is just... in-between somewhere?

Oy vey, this was gonna be a lot of work.

\---

The new drama teacher's name was Phil Coulson. He was a former private school teacher and a graduate of some Ivy League school that Bucky didn't care enough to listen about. He started that Friday, out of the blue — the administration had been incredibly noncommittal about whether or not a new teacher was being found for the class, but one apparently was. Bucky drowned out his ten-minute long introduction by focusing on Steve, who seemed pleasantly interested but was also divesting his interest in his sketchbook, as well as in sneaking glances at Bucky every time he thought Bucky wasn't looking. Bucky felt like he might have to ask him at some point how he felt about the whole waltzing thing, but couldn't find the courage to.

Bucky's attention was suddenly drawn by the word "assignment". Here goes.

"Your first assignment I'm giving you," Mr Coulson was saying, "is to memorize a monologue. This isn't a lot like what you've done before — this one needs to be more than two minutes, with seven as the max." He began passing out copies of the rubric, which Bucky pored over as soon as he got it.

"Of course the rubric says 'Shakespeare'," Coulson continued, "but it can be from any play, as long as it fits the criteria. And of course I expect this monologue to include a lot of acting — you don't get to just stand there and regurgitate the words without any kind of expression."

Bucky was excited. This was his kind of assignment. If he didn't get a part in the play, he would at least get to let off some steam by focusing his creative energies on this. There were so many monologues to choose from — so many that would let him interpret the words and the character and really show off his talent.

Everyone was working individually now to find sample monologues, and Bucky realized with a start that Mr Coulson, in the midst of walking around to check on students as they worked, was coming their way.  
"Mr Rogers," he greeted Steve amiably, catching Bucky off guard. "I'm glad to see you again. I hope you're doing well."

Steve shifted in his seat, covering his drawings a bit and addressing Mr Coulson warmly but with some slight hesitance, "I am. It's good to see you too."

Mr Coulson turned slightly to look at Bucky. "And your neighbor here is Mr Barnes, I believe."

"Yes," Bucky said, shaking Coulson's hand as he offered it.

"Steve here was once one of my students over at SSR, my old private school," Coulson explained. "It's always good to see a familiar face on your first day in a school."

"I can imagine," Bucky said, understanding now why Steve was sitting somewhat uncomfortably in his seat with a slight blush.

"From what I hear, you are very actively involved in drama here at Shield High, aren't you?" Coulson continued.

"Oh, um, yes, sir," Bucky answered, a little apprehensive but glad to be noticed.

"I expect this coming spring musical will be very good, especially with you and Mr Rogers here in it," Coulson said kindly.

"Oh, well, I'm not really in it," Bucky explained, "I'm just the Stage Manager."

"Every show needs a Stage Manager," Coulson shrugged off Bucky's show of humility. "Someone has to keep things running while the director has their Xanax, am I right?"

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle at the unfunny (but _oh so accurate_ ) joke. "Of course," he agreed.

"Welp," Coulson exclaimed, clapping his hands together quietly, "I'll leave you two to it. I'm sure you have a lot on your minds besides my project. Just be sure to have your monologue picked out by Monday class, and tell everyone in the cast to break a leg for me." Bucky agreed to do so. "Oh, and Stevie," Coulson stopped himself as he began to walk off, "Don't be a stranger, alright? If you need anything, let me know." With that, he sauntered off to the next table.

"What was that about?" Bucky asked, before tacking on, "Stevie". Steve blushed deep red and sighed, "He was the drama teacher at my old school. We knew each other for like three years before he left."

"Were you guys friends?" Bucky asked.

"Kinda, I guess," Steve said, clearly getting more and more uncomfortable. "He was there for me for a lot of stuff."

"Oh," Bucky said. He understood now that he was pressing into a subject Steve didn't want to talk about.

"So..." Steve sighed, trying to break the tension, "what monologue do you think you'll do."

"I don't know yet," Bucky shrugged. "There's this really beautiful monologue at the end of Our Town that I've always loved, all about the town at night and the peacefulness of it in the wake of so much terrible stuff going on, and how everyone just goes about their business and the stars keep shinin'..." Bucky caught himself rambling and cut himself off, "...but I don't know if it'll be two minutes long. I'm really thinking about Shakespeare maybe. Like something from _Macbeth_."

"The Scottish Play," Steve intoned in a deep, spooky voice. "Double double toil and trouble, mwa-ha-ha." Bucky laughed embarrassingly hard at that, causing Steve, in turn, to burst out laughing.

\---

As usual, Steve was gone in a flash as soon as class ended. Bucky trekked straight to the practice classroom and unlocked it before posting the sign Pepper had made:

" _PRACTICE DELAYED UNTIL 3:15 FOR WALTZING PRACTICE_ ".

Bucky pressed inside and dropped his things at the front where he and Pepper normally sat, fishing out his script from his backpack and more or less killing time. He didn't have to pick up his sister because his mom had said she could do it the days he had practice as long as he informed her a week in advance. So he was left simply to twiddle his thumbs and wait.

And wait.

And stare at the clock.

And wait.

It was 3:00 by the time Steve finally burst in, looking as if he had run there from the other side of the school. A small crowd of cast and crew members had evidently gathered outside the classroom waiting for practice, as Bucky could see past Steve as the door shut and close.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," Steve sputtered out, looking flustered as he shook his backpack off onto a table in the far corner, looking incredibly awkward.

"Class ended at 2:45, Steve," Bucky sighed cynically. "I get it if you have to go to your locker or do whatever, but at least be here twenty minutes before practice, okay?"

Steve looked at him with the biggest puppy-eyes, "I'm sorry, Buck... I..."

Bucky sighed, giving up on trying to act tough, "Just don't let it happen again, Rogers." Bucky couldn't look at Steve's flushed face for another second or else he'd feel obliged to kiss it. He turned to start opening his script and going through it as if looking things over.

"So," Steve awkwardly said as Bucky rummaged through the pages, "you're a good waltzer?"

Bucky turned to look at him, appreciating the look of sheer nervous anticipation on his face. "You could say that."

Steve broke a nervous smile. "Does this mean I have to act like you're my dance instructor now?"

"Yes," Bucky retorted tersely. "Yes it does."

"Do I have to call you 'Mister Barnes'?" Steve remarked.

' _Teacher-student kink_ ' popped into Bucky's mind and he brushed it away. "That's Mister Professor Barnes to you, punk," he said with a slip of a smile.

Steve chuckled. "Alright, Mister Professor Barnes," he said, "how, um, how exactly do I waltz?"

Bucky smiled despite himself at the awkward phrasing and turned around, steeling himself as he walked to the center of the room. "There is no 'I' in waltz, Rogers. It takes two, as the saying goes."

At the sound of the (awful) joke, Steve started humming the tune of "It Takes Two", catching Bucky a bit off guard. "Stop humming and get over here, you punk," Bucky said, beckoning with both index fingers.

Cheeks maintaining their blush, Steve hesitantly walked over to Bucky and stood a foot away from him. Bucky sighed, "Look, I don't know if you have issues with personal space, or if it's a no-homo thing, or what"— both suggestions caused Steve to fidget nervously a little — "but waltzing is a close dance, so you'll need to get over it quickly." Realizing he sounded a little harsh, he tacked on "Okay?" after a second.

Steve scratched the back of his head, inadvertently drawing Bucky's attention to his arms. "Okay."

Bucky sighed, "Look, you'll be dancing with Cinderella during the actual play. No one is going to see any of this. It's just practice." Bucky stepped forward so that he was only a couple of inches from Steve, and held out his arms in waltz posture, straightening his back and lifting his chin a little as he did.

"This is waltz posture," Bucky said. "Since this is your first time waltzing, I'll be leading, though when you do it on stage with Christine, you'll be the one leading, of course. So, now just..."

He helped Steve a little bit as he tried to mimic the posture. "Yeah, it's gonna be your left arm out, right arm bent, keep your elbow up, now back straight, chin up a bit more, you aren't supposed to look at your feet when you waltz but it's your first time so we'll work on it..." As Steve posed, Bucky did his best to slip his right hand into Steve's left and position them so that his left arm was groping Steve's back and Steve's right hand was gripping his bicep (Steve grabbed his shoulder at first, but when Bucky realized he was touching his scar, he shifted Steve's arm — "It's more comfortable there" was his excuse).

As soon as they were positioned, they looked up at each other's eyes at the same time. The position was incredibly, well, intimate. It occurred to Bucky that it would be so easy to just lean forward and...

_No no no no waltzing waltzing waltzing, no time for_ that _now..._

"Alright," Bucky said, lining up his feet toe to toe with Steve's. "Now, just look down at your feet for now and make sure we stay toe to toe. I'll go slowly, but basically I'm just gonna move my feet one at a time, and as I do, yours follow. Alright?"

Steve grunted out a garbled, "Mm-hm".

Bucky tried to clear his head. He could feel Steve's breath in the stillness of the classroom, almost even smell him. "Alright. So the waltz is done to three beats. There's six steps total, but the beat is basically 'one two three, one two three'. Got it?"

Steve hummed in agreement.

"Okay, now let's take it slow." He counted out each step as he slowly took it, making sure to give Steve more than enough time to react and move his feet to match. First he moved his left foot forward, causing his and Steve's lower bodies to be pressed pretty close together. Then he brought his right foot about a foot to the right of where his left foot was now. Thirdly he brought his left foot right next to his right foot. Bucky then brought his right foot back, so that once again he and Steve's pelvises were dangerously close, before bringing his left foot back to its starting place, and then bringing the right foot next to it. Steve followed along as best he could.

"Alright, think we can do that again?" Bucky asked.

"Y-Yeah," Steve mumbled.

They tried it again, doing well until Bucky brought his foot back on the fourth step and Steve, in a rush to keep their toes together, stepped on his big toe. After letting loose a cuss word and hearing Steve apologize profusely for several minutes, Bucky sighed, "It's fine, it's fine. You're doing fine, Steve. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I know I musta stepped on Natasha's feet a million times when we were waltzing together."

"You and Natasha waltzed?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Bucky shrugged, "I mean, she basically taught me. We had to do it for _Sound of Music_. She was an extra and all..."

"Oh," Steve said, "So, do you two... dance often?"

"Not really?" Bucky said, a bit confused, but glanced at the clock and instantly straightened up into posture. "Um, we've got five minutes before practice, so we'd better try this a few more times. You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, you?"

"I've had far worse injuries than a stepped-on toe, Steve," Bucky smirked. "Alright, let's try this..." Slowly again, Bucky took Steve through all the steps successfully. "Okay, do you think we can do it a little faster?"

Steve nodded in response.

Bucky took him through it again, still pretty slow, but gaining some speed toward the end. Steve did well, even if his right foot did flop around a bit clumsily on the second-to-last step. "Good, Steve, good. Now let's try it a few times together, without stopping. Think you can do that?"

Steve just nodded again. Part of Bucky wondered why he was so silent all of a sudden. I mean, sure, it took some effort to get him to talk already, but this was stone-cold silence. Did Bucky say something? About Nat? Was Steve realizing that Nat had volunteered Bucky to teach him even though she was just as good? Bucky's mind raced. Did Steve think this was some scheme to get close to him or something? _No, no, Steve wouldn't jump to those conclusions... would he?_ Bucky had no clue what was going on in Steve's mind — which could be pretty dangerous if it turned out Steve was 100% beyond-a-doubt straight and homophobic at that...

_No, no,_ Bucky couldn't think that way. Steve might be straight, but he didn't have a mean bone in his body... did he?

_He did supposedly get into fights at his old school._

Bucky was so in his own thoughts that, even as he gradually led Steve through the steps, he fumbled on one of them and didn't place his footing correctly. Steve's foot came colliding with his ankle, causing him to stumble and, suddenly, land his foot with a hard slam over Bucky's own.

Bucky let off a rather loud string of cuss words as he stumbled backward, hopping on one foot.

"Oh god, Bucky!" Steve was backing away, pale as a ghost, one moment, and in the next he was swooping in with hands grabbing Bucky's arms to help him stay upright (not that Bucky was actually falling, but who was he to complain). "Jesus, Buck, are you alright?"

Steve helped Bucky into a seat while he rubbed his foot and mumbled out more curse words before finally managing to say, "I'm fine, Steve, it's alright."

Bucky grumbled, trying hard to control his expression and breathe to alleviate the pain. _Pain is an illusion, pain is an illusion..._ "I'm fine, Steve, I'm okay!" he finished, sounding rather not okay.

"Oh god, Buck, I'm so sorry," Steve was already saying as he sat down, "I'm just so big and I—I don't always realize..." Steve let out a heavy (almost pained) sigh and slumped forward in his seat, holding his face in his hands. "I don't know how I'm gonna do this," he mumbled.

"Do what?" Bucky asked. "Waltz? We'll figure it out, Steve, we've got two months—"

"Not waltzing, Bucky," Steve sighed, "This play. I don't know if I can do this play. I mean, you saw me yesterday, right? I was a nervous mess, I was sloppy, under-prepared—"

"Steve, it was your first practice," Bucky reasoned. "Of course you were nervous. It's fine. You're gonna do great. You weren't even that bad yesterday. You were really good."

"I don't know, Buck," Steve shook his head. "I don't know if I'm the guy for this."

"Look, if Pepper gave you the part," Bucky sighed, "she clearly must've thought you were perfect for the part. She's a very picky person."

Steve blushed and breathed deeply, "Yeah, I guess." Bucky wasn't getting through to him.

"Hey, what was your audition like?" Bucky prodded. "I mean, I know you weren't at the formal auditions, but..."

"Pepper had me audition by myself," Steve said. "I was really nervous but she talked me through it and got me to relax. Afterward she said I was the best audition she'd seen in a while." _Thanks Pepper_ , Bucky thought.

"You just need to relax then," Bucky said, feeling stupid as soon as he did.

"Thanks Buck," Steve quipped, nodding slowly, "Wow! Thats news to me! No, really! You've cured me!"

Bucky smiled and nodded, mimicking him, "Yeah, alright, asshole. Fine. You know what, I think I'll just leave and you and your punk ass can practice waltzing alone." He stood up and made like he was going to leave.

"No, no, please!" Steve pleaded sarcastically, sinking to his knees and wringing his hands, "Don't leave me, oh great Mister Professor Barnes! Please! I'll do anything!"

Bucky turned and looked at him. The unintentional innuendo, paired with Steve on his knees in front of him, sent a thought through his mind. "Anything?" he asked with a smirk.

A slight blush crept across Steve's face. The nervous, shy Steve was back. "Well, um, most anything." He gulped, now very self-aware.

Bucky deepened his smirk and walked until he was close to Steve, then bent down as far as he could so that their faces were inches apart. Steve tensed up, blushing even harder, as Bucky studied his face.

"Learn the fucking steps, punk," Bucky suddenly said, catching Steve completely off guard. His mouth dropped partially open in shock as his eyes widened and his blush started to creep away.

"Jerk!" he quipped back, leaning backward on his haunches as Bucky stepped away with a satisfied smile and opened the door to the classroom, admitting in the waiting cast members.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit of a long one. I'll go ahead and spoil that there will, someday, be smut in this fic, but that smut is a long way coming. Thanks to everyone who gave kudos or commented! Means a lot! Hope to have the next chapter up tomorrow and the fourth (from Steve's POV, yay) will be up by the end of the week.


	3. In Three Days Time -- Bucky's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky tries to decide what monologue to do for his class assignment, and Steve is strangely helpful

Bucky spent most of Saturday in his room, alternating between sleeping, avoiding responsibilities, and sleeping to avoid responsibilities. At one point he was so determined not to work on homework that he stared out the window at the lightly falling snow for a good hour before falling asleep again. Around 5 his mom sent him out on a grocery run, for which he had to actually clean himself up and put on normal human clothes, so by the time he got back home, he felt like he might as well work on something. That something ended up being going over the _Into the Woods_ script and his notes for about two hours, checking and rechecking over scenes and blocking and desperately trying not to think about short blond hair and kind blue eyes and taut, rippling muscles.

\---

Sunday, between rushed homework assignments, Bucky doesn't have much time to decide anything for sure about his teaching actual-babe-Steve-Rogers how to waltz. From waking up at noon to finishing a social studies paper on Super PACs (he and Nat joked that they'd form their own in the interest of charitably giving money to broke teenage New Yorkers of Eastern European descent, starting with themselves of course) to frantically catching up on late Calculus homework, all Bucky really had time to decide on was his monologue for Theatre: he had his choices narrowed down to four, all incredibly difficult to decide: the dagger scene from _Macbeth_ (which he liked for the escalating crazy factor), the "Tomorrow" monologue from the same, the "To be or not to be" soliloquy from _Hamlet_ (both lengthy and daunting, which Bucky liked), and lastly, Hamlet's "What a piece of work is man" speech. The "Tomorrow" and "What a piece of work" speeches were both too short for the assignment, and Bucky understood this, but he had always wanted to perform them, so part of him stayed blindly hopeful that he could possibly do one of them. At the same time, he loved the dagger scene and the "To be or not to be" soliloquy too much to eliminate either.

In Bucky's Literature class, they had watched the newer BBC version of _Macbeth_ with Patrick Stewart, and also read _Hamlet_ (with Bucky reading all of Hamlet's lines during in-class readings, of course). Bucky liked _Macbeth_ for the turmoil of it all — the balance of external strife and war mingled in the personal struggle of a man descending into insanity. It was _Hamlet_ that he truly fell in love with, though. He was Hamlet more than any other character, he thought. Hamlet got him (or rather, Shakespeare did, since Hamlet is believed to be Shakespeare's most personal character). He was a depressed and lonely kid, who struggled a lot with his parents' expectations and his bisexuality and his wishes to just end it all. Bucky had been going through a deep depression when they started _Hamlet_ in that class, and oddly enough, Shakespeare's most depressing play was the one that brought Bucky out of it. There was a feeling of mutual acknowledgment, like Shakespeare winking to Bucky across the span of centuries: "I get it."

Bucky decided finally to just ask about them tomorrow. He could talk to Nat first and get her somewhat-uninformed but friendly opinion, then talk to Mr Coulson about it. He seemed like a cool guy. He'd help Bucky figure it out.

_Hell_ , Bucky thought, _maybe I'll even ask Steve's opinion_.

\---

**Natasha Romanov** :  
 _hey buck sorry but i won't be at school today, uti again, send me whatever homework we got_  
 _oh, and i already texted pepper n told her i wouldn't be at practice so don't worry bout that_

Bucky heaved a heavy sigh. _Damn Natasha and her frequent infections_. Honestly, she missed school for sickness so much that he had to wonder if she weren't a super secret spy or something, off saving the world while he was stuck in Spanish class conjugating "-ar" verbs until his hand cramped.

He had been hoping to run his monologue ideas past Nat before Theatre class to get a feel for things. To be honest, Nat didn't actually care that much for theatre — she was a great actress, but was only really involved for Bucky's sake. Her opinion would've been helpful as an outward observer, but of course not as anyone who actually knew much about Shakespeare or soliloquies.

So Bucky found himself sitting in Spanish class, alone, stressing out over which monologue to choose, and also, on a lower level of his conscious, stressing out over the fact that he was teaching Steve Rogers to waltz today.

Pepper was also gone for the day — she'd told Bucky that she would be back for practice. She and Tony were tracking down old contacts of the Performing Arts Department to convince them to donate money and/or help out with production. The fact that the drama club had been left with little to no funds due to late fundraisers and "lack of academic importance" (as administration phrased it) meant that with costs if scripts and rights to _Into the Woods_ covered, the production would already be several hundred dollars in debt, in addition to the cost of set, costumes, makeup, etc.. Bucky realized for the thousandth time in his life that he had an ample list of things to be stressed out over.

It must have been rather evident that Bucky was stressed (or maybe his hair was just messed up from how hard he'd been pulling on it in frustration), since the moment he sat down in Drama class, Steve looked up at him from across the table and asked with worry in his eyes, "What's got you all worked up, Buck?"

Bucky looked up at him, considered lying or just simply griping about nothing in particular, and then melted with a defeated sigh under the gaze of those blue eyes. "Nat's not here today, and I was hoping to go over my monologue choices with her before we have to choose today."

"What have you narrowed it down to?" Steve asked.

"Four," Bucky answered, and was interrupted before he could continue.

"Sheesh, Bucky!" Steve exclaimed, gorgeous eyes fluttering wide open in amusement, "Only four!"

"Yes, only four!" Bucky quipped back. "Two from _Macbeth_ , and two from _Hamlet_."

"Well, which ones are you thinking?" Steve asked kindly.

"From _Macbeth_ , I'm thinking the dagger scene, but I also really like the Tomorrow monologue even though it's too short for the time specifications. Same problem with the 'what a piece of work' speech from _Hamlet_ , but I also wanna do 'To be or not to be'."

"Hm," Steve said thoughtfully, mulling the issue over apparently. "I'm not sure how good my opinion is, since I haven't seen or read _Macbeth_ —"

"What?!" Bucky interrupted, "But it's so good!"

Steve continued with a light chuckle, "...and I don't really remember the 'what a piece of work' speech..."

Bucky was aghast. "Seriously? Don't remember one of the greatest speeches in the whole goddamn play of _Hamlet_?"

Steve chuckled a bit and shook his head, "Sorry."

"Well," Bucky said, leaning in confidentially as his mischievous side got the best of him, "Lucky for you I know it by heart."

"The whole speech?" Steve said, looking taken aback, "You know it already?"

"I love Shakespeare," Bucky shrugged, and then cleared his throat, shifting into character: " _I will tell you, so shall my anticipation prevent your discovery..._ " Bucky had to look down to avoid looking at Steve as his blue eyes stared into Bucky's soul. " _...and your secrecy to the kind and queen molt no feather. I have of late — but wherefore I know not — lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises, and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory..._ " By now Bucky was intensely in the zone, though he couldn't bear to look directly at Steve. " _This most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire! — why, it appears nothing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors._ "

Bucky finally — hesitantly — looked at Steve.

_Jesus Christ!_

Steve's eyes were blown wide, and he was looking at Bucky in total awe or something, as if he hung the moon.

Bucky hated to admit it, but it gave him a little boost to his ego (and his libido, but he'd deal with that later).

He continued, looking Steve full in the face now, " _What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty! In form, and moving, how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world — the paragon of animals!_ " Bucky sighed, forlorn, " _And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust. No, man delights not me._ " He cuffed exasperatedly, " _No, nor woman neither though your smiling seems to say so!_ " At that last bit, Steve actually drew back in his seat a bit as if he thought Bucky was actually accusing him of smiling.

"That's it," Bucky finally said after Steve seemed to wait expectantly for some time.

"Oh," Steve said, blue eyes still wide with awe (or shock, or a combination of the two), "Wow, Bucky, that was... You're amazing... I mean, like, at acting, I mean..."

Bucky gave him a shit-eating grin, "Oh, so at other things, I suck?"

"No!" Steve sighed, shifting quickly into "done with your shit" mode. "I just meant... You were incredibly good."

"You mean it, Rogers?" Bucky asked.

"Of course," Steve said, giving Bucky a smile that warmed his entire body head to toe.

"Gentlemen," Mr Coulson suddenly interrupted, walking up to their table, "how are we today?"

"Good," both Bucky and Steve somewhat awkwardly answered.

"Good," Coulson smiled. "I just wanted to let you know that the sign-up sheet for the monologues is posted up on the white board, so you may want to write yours down before anyone else gets it."

"Alright," Steve said, immediately before Bucky said, "Thanks".

Coulson looked between the two of them, smiled, and walked to another table.

"Which one do you think you're gonna do?" Steve asked.

Bucky hummed thoughtfully in response, staring at the sheet posted on the board. Now that he thought about it, he knew exactly which one he wanted to do.

He got up, walked over to the sheet, and wrote in with his pen:

" _Bucky Barnes — Macbeth, Act 2, Scene 1_."

_The dagger scene._

Satisfied, Bucky turned to go back to his seat, nearly bumping into Steve as he walked up right behind him to read.

"Which scene is that?" Steve asked.

"Th-The dagger scene," Bucky sputtered, suddenly aware of how close Steve was standing to him in all his awkward, muscled glory.

"Oh," Steve said, and moved past him to read the other entires on the sheet. 

Bucky returned to his seat and screamed internally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taking so long to post! Chapter 4 is under way (and from Steve's POV), but I've just been distracted lately by finals and other projects. Hope you enjoy.

**Author's Note:**

> Boy howdy this is terrible. Like just all over bad. But I can't give a damn and to be honest I'll totally keep writing if this chapter gets any comments and/or kudos. Like, just wow.  
> Also, Into The Woods has legit been my favorite musical for the past three or four years. I have studied it in depth and psychoanalyzed all the characters and scenes. The way I portray it here is so not seriously how I feel about it.


End file.
